Hospital Fantasy (Sexy, Dirty and Sick, So be Warned, Dears)

The night was cold and dim and quiet and sad
In the cleanish and clinical confines of Ward 224
(The terminal one where the near-dead wait release,
Wittily nicknamed "Happy Dreamers Ward" by the matron,
An evil predatory old dike with a 48-inch waist)
As ugly Nurse Nancy peered o'er the blood-spattered screen
Around poor old Mr Bertram "Big Balls" Bluebottle.

His wasted, crippled, whitened pyjamed form
Lay twitching on the crisp white sheets;
He opened his unseeing, ancient eyes
And forced his spittle-specked lips to squawking speech.
"Give us a gobble" he croaked pathetically,
"You know you want to, you fat whore".
And then he croaked. Unsucked and unloved,
His relatives already checking in his Will
For any goodies lurking there for their delectation.

But you, dearest reader and compassionate creature
That you are, will be delighted to hear that
The bedsheets were indelibly and spectacularly stained
As his bowels opened spontaneously with Death's kindly appearance.

"Gor blimey, what a fucking horrid pong,"
Said Mr Sammy "No Legs" Smith in the next door bed
As he paused briefly in his senile and demented self-stimulation.

Poetry by Edna Sweetlove
Read 953 times
Written on 2007-04-12 at 21:25

Tags Sexy  Sick  Naughty 

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